One Night
by Bellantara
Summary: Allura can't sleep; who finds her and keeps her company, and could there be more?


Coran would be furious with me, if he knew how often I walk the Castle alone, late at night. "It is not safe, Princess," I can almost hear him saying. "And with those . . . Alliance pilots here, you shouldn't be out of your rooms unchaperoned!" Dear man. Nowhere on Arus is safe with Zarkon threatening my poor people, and as for the boys . . . Coran means well, but my virtue is as safe with them as it is with him. Keith and the others are as noble as the legendary Altean Paladins.

The simple fact is that I have nightmares often, and can't sleep afterwards. So I wander the Castle, remembering happier times. Like tonight, I find myself in the ballroom, humming to myself as I picture the last ball my parents held, Mamma so pretty in her white dress, Father so dignified and handsome. "You should be in bed, _prinsesse._ You need your rest." The soft, accented voice scares the life out of me, I was so lost in my memories, and I whirl to see—oh, what is his _name?_ Tall and dark, hasn't said more than ten words since he's been here? A strange name . . . Ah, SVEN! "Sorry, I did not mean to startle you," he continues, stepping into the room beside me. "Is everyting all right?"

I barely know him . . . Coran's warned me more than once to keep my distance from the Force, that a princess has no business consorting with common pilots. But I'm SO tired of being aloof, of having no company but my little mice friends. . .and before I know it, I'm telling Sven of the nightmares, of how I can't sleep afterwards. "Dat is a terrible ting," he says quietly when I finish. "I understand all too vell; I haf nightmares myself." He glances down at me, and I'm struck by how . . . shy this brave warrior seems with me. "You really should not vander de Castle alone, _prinsesse._ It is not safe." Before I can protest, he holds his hand out. "But neiter should you be a prisoner in your rooms. Come vit me."

I shouldn't, it's not proper for me to be alone with a young man. But . . . it's _Sven._ Quietest and shyest of my newly-sworn Voltron Force. If I cannot trust him, truly I can trust no one! So I tell the voices to hush, and put my hand in the callused one of my Blue Lion Knight. Sven gives me a small smile that does funny things to my insides, then guides me out onto the Grand Balcony. "I like to come out here vhen I cannot sleep, to count de stars."

I move to the shattered railing, dazzled by the brilliance of the heavens, barely aware of Sven behind me steadying me. "There are so many . . . it's beautiful!"

A chuckle, low and dark, and Sven's arm comes over my shoulder, pointing. "Pollux is dere . . . Centaurus to de right of it . . . Tyrus just dere, Lyra dere . . . und over dere, so faint you can barely see it . . . dere is Eart, _prinsesse."_

I turn to look at him in surprise. "How do you know so many? Is that part of Space Explorer training?"

He shakes his head, with that little smile again. "No, not at all. Before I became a Space Explorer, I vas a Garrison navigator, und I still like to keep in practice."

I can't help the step I take away from him. "A-a navigator? Aren't they all crazy?" I remember my father talking about them once, how the skills needed meant the men eventually went insane. But this is _Sven . . ._ quiet, seemingly the steadiest man on his team, who's never been anything but polite and gentle around me. He couldn't be crazy . . . could he?

Sven comes around to face me, amusement in his blue eyes. "Do I seem crazy to you, _prinsesse?_ I know vhat you haf heard, und ja, dere is truth to it. But . . . somehow I am an exception. I svear to you, you are in no danger from me. Ever."

I look away from him, blushing furiously. Maybe Coran has a point about needing to study my diplomacy more! "I'm sorry; I should know that. You're no crazier than Lance, really."

He laughs then, so warm and infectious that I can't help giggling with him. "'No crazier den Lance'? I tink I'm insulted, _lille."_ He sobers quickly and takes my hands. "Promise me, Allura. Do not valk dis Castle alone. Vhen you cannot sleep, come find me; I vill keep you company if I am not on patrol."

All I can do is nod to him, lost in the intensity of his gaze. He's so handsome . . . would it be so bad to get to know him better? Maybe become more than friends? I shake the thought off. "I promise, so long as it doesn't interfere with YOUR sleep."

Another chuckle from him. "Far too late for that, _lille prinsesse._ " Between one breath and the next, he's scandalously close to me, so close I can feel the heat of his body, smell his spicy scent. "You haf interfered vit min sleep since I first saw you." His hands slide up my arms to rest on my shoulders, and I feel myself tremble. " _Herlig_ , sweet Allura . . . . _Så vakker_ ," he whispers. "Keit vill kill me, he hears of dis. But _min gud_ , vhat you do to me. . ." Before I can ask what the strange words mean, he's lowered his face to mine, and . . . oh my. _He's kissing me!_ My arms wind around his neck of their own volition, but he breaks the kiss and steps back, face flushed. "I—I should not haf done dat. I am sorry, _prinsesse._ Please forgive me."

I'm too dazed to think for a minute, my heart racing and lips numb from my first ever kiss. "There's . . . nothing to forgive. I wanted it too, Sven."

Something sparks in those blue eyes, then it's gone as he shakes his head. "I cannot, I should not . . . you are de _prinsesse,_ I am but a pilot. Und. . . _gud_ help me . . . you are but seventeen; I vill be twenty-four in chust a few veeks. No, dis is wrong." He turns away from me, breathing deeply and raggedly for a long few minutes. When he turns back, his expression is cool and unreadable as ever. "You should get back to your rooms; you need your rest. I vill escort you, _Prinsesse._ " He offers his arm, stiffly formal, and I automatically take it, letting him guide me back into the ballroom. Before I know it, he's delivered me to my bedroom door, and is turning to leave without another word.

"Sven . . . wait, please!" I can't help the blush as I speak; it's not proper, calling after a young man so. But I can't help feeling that if I let him go now, it'll be the biggest mistake of my life. He turns back, and I dive in before my nerve fails me. "I don't care that I'm a princess, and you're a pilot. You're far nicer than any of the princes Coran keeps expecting me to choose from. And . . ." I look up at him shyly. "I won't be seventeen forever; I—I'd like to be courted by you, once I'm eighteen. You're a good man, Sven; I'd like to get to know you better."

Sven steps closer. "Keit vill haf my head; Coran und your people vill surely kill me, I am not good enough for a _prinsesse._ But I do not care." He gives me a shy smile unlike anything I've ever seen from him. "I vould like to court you, _prinsesse._ Very much. Und I am patient; I can vait until you are eighteen and I can court you properly. Until den. . .ve can be friends, _ja_?" All I can do is nod, dazzled by that sweet smile and that intense gaze. "Very good," he whispers, taking my hand and kissing the back of it gently. "Good night then, sweet Allura. Sleep vell." Slowly he backs away, holding my hand until he absolutely HAS to let go, then turns and is gone with one glance backwards. I watch until he disappears around a corner, then float into my room to dream of dark brooding knights with strange accents.

That night was six months ago. And though I turned eighteen two months ago, Sven never got the chance to court me as we both wished; just one week after that night, Haggar and her monster took him from us. I found myself on the balcony again after the medical transport left for Ebb with Sven, looking up at his beloved stars, praying to the Goddess for his life. Lance joined me at some point, pale and silent, but . . . shedding just as many tears as I was.

He knows, somehow, when I can't sleep, when I come out here. Unless he's on duty, he's always either waiting for me or joins me shortly after I come out. Some nights we spend in silence, gazing at the cold and distant stars; other nights, when there's been a battle and the silence is too painful, Lance tells me stories, in a quiet voice so unlike his cocky public persona. I know now what a Garrison cadet's life is like; I know what forged the bonds between my Knights, bonds deeper than any mere brotherhood. And I wait. One day Sven will return to us; one day he will court me like we talked about, like I dream.


End file.
